Never Dead
by ToriZlamal
Summary: She has thought of this man for over a thousand years, he has plagued her thoughts, but he knows nothing of her. It was her decision to remove herself from Eric Northman's memory, but was it the right one?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Trueblood series or it's wonderful characters that help inspire my creativity!

I look into his beautiful blue eyes, falling deep into their depths until I loose feeling in my body, sight in my eyes and thoughts crumble to dust before forming in my mind. I have not seen these eyes in over a thousand years and they are still as captivating as ever.

* * *

"Please don't hurt me!" I curl against the post that digs into my back. My wrists are raw but still I rub them together, I must escape. Each Viking has come and gone but this one is different. As he enters the tent, he seems nervous, very hesitant of his presence here. He stands by the slit, and I can tell his eyes do not focus on me, they are too busy looking around the room, avoiding my eyes that dare not to look at him.

"If your going to do something, please just get it over with." I begin curling into myself, preparing for the pain that will soon follow but he does not move. His eyes remain busy. I look at him for the first time and that's when I realize how beautiful this man is. I have seen beauty in its rarest form and this man makes it ugly. His eyes are so deep, so wise that I could stare into them for one hundred years and still find depth. Though he does not look at me I cannot help but stare. His hair falls into his eyes, golden blonde locks that are braided and twisted together into a ceremonial bun. His jaw is chiseled, his scruff covering it like moss to a rock, but he looks kept, even out here, on the road, traveling with the Vikings to conquer. His height is over towering, a rarity in this world. I have always been tallest, the tallest in the room but this man beats me by many a arm.

I realize I have not stopped staring at this man and all his beauty and that he has refused to look at me.

"I'm sorry. I... You don't deserve this... this barbarian treatment. One of your beauty..." He still doesn't look at me but his voice trails off, lost in thought at my apparent beauty that has left him speechless, and here I am reveling at his own blind beauty. He moves around the tent, making sure our radius never decreases and this upsets me. It upsets me this beautiful creature has not stepped forward. It not only upsets me but it angers me that he has not had his way with me. I am immediately shocked as this realization hits me. I want this beautiful man to do with me as he pleases yet he remains gentlemanly, staying far away and averting his eyes. For but a split second I believe it is because I'm ugly but the thought is brushed away at the mere fact that my beauty caused a war amongst the Gods.

"It is not your fault." His head shakes and my only wish is to cup that beautiful cheek bone in my hand and wipe away those line that crease his forehead in worry. He looks away and I realize my situation not only angers him but it upsets him as well. How could this huge Viking be brought to tears at my situation? This barbarian fears no emotion, a quality that is rarely if ever seen in one of his upbringing.

"I did not protect you. You are but a innocent frail beautiful women and I did not defend your honor. I do not deserve my sword, nor my name. I relinquish myself to you. Do with me what you will." For a moment I consider forcing this amazing creature to make love to me , to make sounds I have never used come from my mouth. I want this man to bend my body in ways I never imagined. And after that long, excruciatingly wonderful and memorable moment, I begin to think of escape. And again, my pleasuring moment returns. If I leave, this beautiful creature leaves my life as well.

"You have not had your way with me. I am at your will and yet you remain away. That is all the protection I need. You have defended my honor more in these moments then anyone ever before." For a moment I see anger in his face. True anger that scares me into rethinking my words. I fear I have hurt him, upset him in such a way he will storm away, and that I do not want.

"You have had horrible men in your life if this is protecting your honor, min kärlek" I laugh slightly at the fact that all men in my life have been horrible, even if they hadn't started out that way. His head tilts in confusion at the sound of my laugh and for the first time since entering this tent he looks at me. And my body convulses. I cannot not control the burning sensation that appears between my legs as this beautiful creature looks upon me. I rub my wrists together with no thought of escape. I try to rip off the rope so I can run at this beautiful creature and jump onto him, into him and force him into me with every particle of my being. His eyes look upon me for what feels like ever and then he leaves. We sat in silence for a moment, taking in each others beauty and then he turns and walks from the tent. Nay, he runs from this tent I am still held prisoner in.

* * *

I look into his eyes and see myself within them. But I do not recognize the girl that stares back at me. It has been a thousand years since this young women has looked me in the face and I feel nothing but sorrow for her, nothing but pity, nothing but jealousy. And though I can see the young me within these old eyes, I know the owner of them does not see me, does not see that which I use to be. He does not recognize me. Though this had been my choice, I still regret it.

* * *

He enters slowly, talking to the guards that stand outside. It takes some convincing but soon they agree to leave, to give him privacy while he "has fun with the kön slav" he gives a quick laugh and then turns to look at me anger on his face. "blodig fåne" and then he smiles at me. He seems to glide across the tent and soon his hands are cupping my face, bringing me closer to his lips. I have waited a week for this night, for his caring embrace. He pulls away so he can focus on the knots that wrap themselves around my wrists.

"Min väktare" I whisper it into his ear that is bent towards me, his eyes staring at my ropes. I see a small smile appear but it disappears under his veil of anger.

"Was it bad this quarter moon cycle? Did they hurt you? I will kill them." My hands are finally freed and I place them on his cheeks. I rub just below his eyes, trying to rub away the sleepiness that is ever present there.

"You stayed awake. All quarter cycle?" I cannot bare to see him this way. He cares for me in ways I wish he would not. I know our time together is almost over and it fears me what will happen to him if they find out.

"How could I not? Knowing what they were doing to you, what they were going to do." again the anger returns. I do not wish to know what his mind has created, how his imagination has spun the truth.

"My protector." I continue to rub his cheek and my other hand goes to his chest. I feel his heartbeat, his warm pumping blood flowing through his body.

"Eric." I look into his eyes. We had never exchanged names. We went deeper with our own terms of love. I can see his longing for my own name and I realize this is the moment my decision will be made. I could tell him everything, everything about me, the entirety of my truth, where I come from, how old I truly am. But that would put him in harms way. Do I tell him everything and risk his life? Or shall I lie and save his life, make these few moments with him last forever in my mind.

"Isabelle." And my decision is made. I've always loved that name. He will not know of my past, of what will happen to me. Though my feelings have and still do grow for this beautiful creature, he is mortal, and that is all he will ever be and I cannot watch as he slowly dies before my eyes. This Eric will live a long healthy life without me and my deceitful death-bringing ways.

"Isabelle." He smiles at my name and slowly and lightly kisses my lips, allowing the passion to grow between us and the tension to thicken. He begins to say my name, his voice thickening and deepening each time. I know he is preparing himself and he slowly lays down my body, leaning over me and staring into my eyes.

"Eric... My protector... They have not had me as you think." He stops suddenly, his excitement dying for but a second and then coming back, full throttle. He knows exactly what I have just said and it pleases him in a way I have never seen before. A smile lights up his face that is not only happy and joyful but full of lust and some deceit. He will enjoy conquering this battle.

* * *

I notice his hair is shorter. Though still a luscious blonde, his beautiful locks have been cut, to go with a modern look. I hate it. He is no longer my Eric, my protector. Though it has been a thousand years and his memories are gone, I still yearn for him in a such in way. A way that only a handful of men could make me feel. And he is the only one living. I continue to look at the rest of him, aware my staring has made him uncomfortable. His body is as cut as it was when he was a barbarian, a side affect I am now pleased with from vampirism.

He looks into my eyes, trying to force himself into believing he knows me, a feeling of deja vu but he can't. It may have been a thousand years ago, but my power stays strong.

* * *

Eric enters fast, he barrels through the doorway, blood covering his face and clothing. He rips off his shirt but I know immediately it is not for the excitement growing inside of me. His face is unrecognizable. He is full of anger and power. His barbarian roots are showing. He runs behind me, knife in hand and cuts me free. Throwing me his cloth shirt he runs back to the slit and looks outside.

"Eric? My protector? What is happening?" The moment I call him my protector he turns toward me. His barbarian side vanishes and he becomes the beautiful man I have grown to care for, dare I say love. He walks back over to me and kneels before me. His hand cups my cheek.

"Min kärlek. Isabelle." My stomach flips inside when he says that. I have, since the moment that name left my lips, regretted the decision to lie. "I need you to put this on. You are going to hide. You are going to run and hide and, when I finish this fight I will find you."

"Eric I-" His lips cut me off. One hand wraps around my neck while the other grips under my legs and lifts me to him. I put everything I have in my weak state into this kiss because I know this is the last time I will see this beautiful man. As if he feels the same, he begins to kiss like there is no tomorrow, which, in our case, there isn't. When we finally part we both gasp for much required air. He reaches into his pocket for a piece of paper and puts it into a hidden compartment of his shirt I wear.

"If, by the Gods cruel joke, I cannot find you, go here. You will always find me here." He kisses me one more time on the lips, very lightly so as to not excite himself, and stands. Looking down upon me, his hand lowers and moves one strand of hair from my face. I can see the longing in his eyes for not only battle but me.

He turns and walks to the slit, my voice stopping him short. "Eric." He stops but doesn't face me. I know, as well as he, that if he does indeed turn he will not be able to leave by will. I stand slowly, wearing nothing but his shirt and walk up to him. My hand touches his shoulder and I immediately feel him relax. I have been his safe haven just as he has been mine. He turns finally and looks into my eyes. A tear falls down my face as I watch his deep beautiful blue eyes become shallow.

"You will not remember me. These past weeks did not happen. I was a prisoner you held for fun. I have no name in your memory nor a face. When, if ever, you look upon these memories, you will feel happiness but not know why. In your mind, it will be the battles that exhilarate you, not love. You do not remember me, Isabelle, the women you have come to care for, the women you have grown to-" The thought of saying love crosses my mind. Did he love me? I loved him but how could I ever know if the feeling is mutual. I regret not asking before this moment. Not knowing, never knowing. "love." Another tear falls as I decide, even if he didn't, that he loved me. In my mind, when I look back at this time, I will think of love. Eric stands still, shallowness veiling his eyes for but a moment more and then his head shakes.

"Women. You must leave. You are too frail for this battle." He looks down upon my unclad body and gives me a disapproving look. He looks into my eyes, but the love that had been there just moments before is nowhere to be found. He turns and runs from the tent, just like the first time I saw him. I am left alone, with nothing but his shirt left, and my memories that are one-sided. The tears fall and for once I do not care I am showing my feelings. It may have been four thousand years since I was mortal, but in this moment, I do not feel like the Demi-god that I am.

* * *

My heart still flutters with excitement at the mere fact that he lives. I had grieved for this man, had taken my time getting over him and move on. I can only regret my decision.

* * *

"You can't go. Think about what your saying, what you're doing Vittoria." I look into Abby's eyes. They are nothing like his but staring into her, into anyone's eyes reminds me of the gaping despair that fills me each day.

"Abby I have to." she shakes her head but picks up a shirt that sits on the bed, folding it as she speaks.

"You finished the job. You followed the group and discovered there wasn't a vampire among them, just blood-thirsty fucking barbarians." Her face makes a face of disgust as she speaks of the barbarians. She has never liked barbarians, especially after her up-bringing. But who could blame her.

I've always loved Abby. She was-is my best friend. In everything I do, she has always been steps behind me, giving me advice I never truly want but always desperately need. Were it not for her, I never would have met Eric, but I would never tell her that. Blame is not what I would place on her, but it is certainly what she would place on herself.

I've loved her like a sister, as well as a mother and a daughter. She fills that gap in my life, she fills all the gaps in my life. And lucky for me, her magical abilities help her stay alive with me. She was my other half, but now, she's my third.

"He wasn't like them Abby. He was...different." She makes a face at my words and begins taking on a role of me, clutching the clothes in her hands.

"He was different, beautiful, wonderful. If you could meet him you would see." I push her over and pick up another dress.

"He was. He showed emotion and he cared for me." She stands slowly, brushing off her skirt.

"How do you know that wasn't some ploy to get in your pants." I look at her in anger. I would never have told anyone. It would have been my secret to my imaginary grave, if things hadn't gone horribly wrong, if it wasn't clear as day that I had had sex with that beautiful man.

"Abigail! How dare you-"She cuts me off with a look. These words have been in her mind for months, I have heard this conversation plaguing her thoughts since she found out.

"How dare I what? Your a fucking idiot. Your going to find this man who won't remember you and tell him what? 'You won't remember me because I swiped your mind with my God powers but I'm pregnant with your child.'" Abby was always my safe haven, before I met Eric, but now, she feels more like a prison.

"I didn't ask you for your opinion. And if I wanted an opinion you can be as sure as Hades that I wouldn't ask you." I know I've hurt her as she hurdles herself out of my room, but it's what I had to do, what was necessary to get me to Eric, to the address written in his beautiful handwriting, hidden in his beautiful shirt that lays on my bed. Though it is still covered in his blood, I hold it to me. I haven't washed it but in a few days it will no longer hold its sentimental value. When I have his real smell on me, I can rid myself of it. I take one last look at my room as I turn towards the door, entering my new life that is about to begin.

* * *

He still smells the same. It hits me all of a sudden as I breathe for the first time in minutes, for the first time since I saw him enter this room. He smells of woods, as if it has been deeply ingrained into his being, his homeland always being apart of him. I notice that he smells of blood too, a rare kind of blood that I have not smelled in hundreds of years, though I cannot place it. I have never liked the smell of blood and this woodsy smell clashing. It has always been followed by horrible things.

* * *

The decision of how to arrive plagued my mind the entire trip. Eventually I decided on approaching this decision head-on. For some reason the idea of crawling through woods just does not sound as captivating as this luxurious cab I sit in now. The horses neigh as they are pulled short in front of the house. It's bigger then I ever would have imagined, then I ever did. Most barbarians come from poor families in need of money. Eric's family was certainly in no need of money.

"The Northman residence ma'am." I laugh at his name. Northman. Eric Northman. It does have a nice flow to it. For but a moment I imagine yelling that name whilst in a very revealing position. But I shake off that thought and focus on getting into the house. I pay the driver and turn to the house. Though all the candles are lit, the house does not seem very lively. I knock on the door. No one comes. I knock again, yet I am again denied entrance. Though it is impolite, I try the handle, too nervous to care for manners. The door opens easily but the moment it does I wish it hadn't.

The first room is covered in blood, from floor to ceiling. Everything within the room lays covered. The blood slowly drips down the walls, leaving behind small trails of blood that, sadly, do not seem out of place in this room. A massacre has occurred at the Northman residence and my heart begins to leap from its chest. I can feel myself becoming ill but I continue on, I need to know.

The next room is the same as the first but I notice two bodies lay on the floor. I walk to them slowly, unable to control myself before I bend down and turn over the bodies. Though I am pregnant, my Demi-God strength stays strong. Both are women, though one looks to be about the age of ten. I grab my stomach and pray to every God that my child does not receive this fate.

The kitchen is covered as well, but the room itself lays in shambles. Every drawer is out and emptied, the contents scattered across the floor. I place my feet warily, trying to keep the blood off my shoes, out of my mind, but it is no use. I misstep and hit a bucket that lays bent on the floor. I freeze where I am as the sound travels throughout the house, the dead silent house. I move not an inch more until no sound reaches my ears, no sound but the wind outside and my beating heart that struggles to continue on.

I finally come to one of the two bedrooms, the room for the children. There are four beds in this room, two of which have been personally altered for their height. I would have laughed if this night went the way it was suppose to, the way I planned. And in each bed lays a body, each body deformed beyond recognition. Two young boys lay in the smaller bed, their faces cut up almost identically. From their size, I would guess both were the same age, possibly twins. I notice, for the first time, the cuts seem more rounded then just slits. These bodies were not cut up, they were attacked.

I stop at the first of the taller men and my first recognition is his hair. I know right away it is too brown to be my Eric, my protector. I pause for a moment, give this man the respect he deserves. I may not have known Eric's family, but it is as if they were mine, now that I hold his child inside of me.

I finally approach the last bed. The body lays as if it's been put to rest. His hair is long, braided and twisted just as Eric's had been. I touch a stray lock that fell from his intricate design. I twirl it a little and then place it back with the rest of its brethren. His face is too scarred to tell me if this man is my love. His height is almost perfect but I cannot tell as he lays before me. I can feel my stomach clenching, readying itself to dump its contents but I hold back. I prepare my mind for my next move. My hand slowly reaches for his face, trembling every centimeter that it moves. When I touch his face, a tear falls from my eye. But I hold it back, I hold back the tears.

I rub his cheek, like I had wanted the first time I met him, trying to remove the lines of worry. My thumb slowly traces his eyelid and then, with every bit of emotional strength I have, I lift the lid. Shallow beautiful blue eyes stare up to me, just as they had the last time I looked into them. And then my tears fall. My hand shoots back from this beautiful face and I begin convulsing as my stomach empties itself. I look back at his face and my tears come again. I just stand there staring at his face, laying as if he were asleep.

I hear them when they pull up, I hear them mentally as they get out of their carriages, coming to speak to Mr. Northman and his son, his beautiful son. I kiss each of Eric's eyelids and walk quickly from the room.

Eric's house sits close to a patch of woods and I dash to the line of trees. The moment I am hidden safely away I hear the yells from within the house. For a few more moments I look at the home, I think of Eric and how this night was suppose to go, and then I turn and walk away with my fatherless unborn child.

* * *

I realize, too late, that he was trying to talk to me in my shocked and reeling state. I continue to look at his body as he speaks, his words not reaching me. I finally look at his face, using my eyes to figure out what he is saying while my ears are still in my flashback.

"Are you even listening to me?" I blink a few times, clearing my vision and look at Eric's eyes that are full of anger. "Who. Are. You?" he looks into my face again and when I don't answer, he turns to the women at his side. "I hate the women of this generation. They hold themselves in such high standings yet are as uncivilized as swine." I smile meekly at Eric's joke. Though it has been a thousand years, he still seems to talk with a barbarian tone, though his accent of his homeland is almost non-existent. "She smiles. Won't respond, but smiles when I mock her." He sighs at my "stupidity".

The women standing next to him moves forward and looks closely at me. "Maybe she's dumb. Like those people who can't-"

"I know what dumb means Pam. I do not need a human dictionary. If I did, I would tote our _good friend_ Bill around." Though the women, Pam, wants to laugh, she acts hurt. She knows Eric would not want to hear her laughter.

I look again at Eric, comparing him to the Eric that has plagued my thoughts for one thousand years. I did not do him justice. Hades must have cheered for joy when this beautiful creature became one of his demons. This man looks nothing like the man from my dreams, from my memories, he is better.

* * *

I have never felt so much pain. I have been killed hundreds of times, tortured to death, each more vile then the one before. But this pain is incomparable. I would much rather any of those deaths than this moment. I want nothing but for it to end.

"ERIC!" I yell out his name, hoping and praying that he would be given back to me, I would be given the gift of seeing his beautiful face one more time, just enough to make this bearable. But I will never see his face again, never touch his beautiful scruff covered skin, never look into his deep beautiful¾the pain is so bad, I can't take it. All I want is for it to be over. My entire body aches. I arch my back, try to move to get comfortable but a dozen hands force me back. I shove them off easily. "ERIC!" I scream again for him, for his help and his love. I just want it over.

*crack* I hear it. I hear the deafening sound that sends my mind into a spiral, and then I no longer feel the pain, I no longer feel myself, I no longer feel my child. All I feel is empty.

I feel myself falling, a feeling I have felt many times before, hundreds of times before, but this one scares me because I am not the only one relying on my life. I push through, force myself to breathe. I have never done this but how could I not try. I may have lost Eric, but I will not loose our child. For but a second I wake, and that is all that is needed. I hear the baby's first cry, see her small head in the arms of my doctor, watch as Abby walks over and takes the child, all her anger and frustration from the past nine months gone the moment their skin touches. She smiles to the baby and then looks at me. Her smile drops and she gives me a curt nod. She will take care of her until I return.

"Isabelle. Her name is Isabelle." And then the blackness finally gets me.

* * *

"This fucking women is getting on my last nerve." He begins to pace in front of me, his anger becoming his dominant feature. This is not my Eric. I have only seen his face like this one other time, when he was prepared for battle and came to free me. My nerves begin to act up, I know my death may be coming soon.

_**Abby? Can you hear me? **_I know that I have to escape here, I cannot survive Eric's death. He cannot know of my power, of my abilities.

_**Holy crap Vit! Where the hell have you been? We have been looking for you every where! **_Her thoughts fill my head and I immediately feel relief, her voice bringing me back into my mind set. I am here to do a job no matter what. Even if my long lost lover is found, I must stay strong.

_**I'm fine. Just a little tied up at the moment, could use some help. **_I can hear her laughter, mentally chuckling and then, the moment she realizes I'm not joking, it stops.

_**You're a God, how did u get tied up? **_No matter how many times this happens, she always has to ask.

_**Do we really have to have this conversation right now? **_I can hear her chuckling. It fills my head and immediately I feel happier, her emotions spilling over to me.

"Do you feel that? Is it just me or does she feel...happy?" I look into Pam's face and try to calm down my emotions. Worst thing about vampires is their sense for emotion, like they actually need that. You'd think someone who has no emotion wouldn't need an extra sense to feel other's emotions.

_**I'm gonna guess you didn't get the job done? You know they won't be happy about this. **_I sigh, pricking up Pam and Eric's interest. There are way too many conversations going on.

_**Ok, Abby? Could you just get me out? We can talk LATER. **_Eric walks over and peers into my face. Even peering, this man is still beautiful. Death suits him.

_**Fine, fine. Just give me a sec. I'll get you out. **_I look into Eric's eyes, as he searches through mine. I can't help but think of removing my spell, revealing to him his true human past, telling him about his daughter. Isabelle. I have not seen her in over five hundred years, and my heart still leaps lightly in my chest when I think of her. And the vampires take notice.

* * *

"How dare you? You cannot keep me prisoner here. I do not want to be like you! I never have!" Though her eyes are the exact same color as her father, she carries not one other quality. Not his kindness, his loving heart, his golden locks. A tear falls as I think of him, but she believes my feelings are hurt because of her. In her mind she accomplished her goal when entering this fight. "For a God, you sure have a weak heart. I mean come on mom, you conceived me by raping some peasant on the side of the road, and yet you cry when I want to leave." She scoffs at me, just like she always has.

"Not everything is about you Isabelle. You have to accept that you are not the only person on this planet." She looks into my eyes as she speaks.

"I may not be the only human, but I'm certainly the only one of my kind, thanks to you." She storms off, ending this conversation the same way it has the other five hundred times. She may have been born of a Demi God, but she did not receive my immortality. Her one other quality from her father was his mortality. My heart stops in my chest as his image flashes through my head, his bloody image.

She was my last piece of him, my last reminder our love had happened, I couldn't loose her. So, when the time came, on her eighteenth birthday, I changed her, made her one of a kind. I paused her aging, used most of my power to do so, sacrificed my life to give her more. And she has never thanked me. To her, it was a curse, not the gift I had intended it to be. I know she will leave, I just hope that day is not soon. The thought of no longer looking into Eric's eyes scares me, and they're not even his eyes.

* * *

"Ok, this girl is a freak. Come on Eric, just kill her and we can get out of here. I hate this place. Only fucking Bill would have his crappy house turned into a mansion when he became king." Pam scoffs in the corner, looking around at the velvet walls.

"Oh Pam, like you wouldn't do the same." Eric still stares into my eyes as he speaks.

"Maybe, but it wouldn't be this...tacky." she lifts one of the gems from the chandler that hangs from the ceiling and flicks it away in disgust. Eric laughs at her, amused by this girls disgust. I search his eyes, look for that familiar depth that has always soothed me in my dreams, but I can't find it. It's as if he has hidden it, hidden the depth. I tilt my head as I look at him, as I try to find my Eric. His head tilts in response.

"What's your story? Who are you?" He smells the air and looks deep into my eyes. "What are you?" his face leans in closer, only centimeters from my lips, and my heart speeds up.

_**GOT IT! **_My mind comes alive as Abby's victory yell sounds through out it. The room fills with what seems like a black smoke and Eric looks to Pam, terror filling his eyes.

"It's a trap!" Pam runs at Eric, to save him but before she gets to him my vision becomes clouded, the black smoke swallowing everything in sight.

"The girl!" I hear Eric's voice and then my ears pop. No sound reaches me and my vision is so clouded I close my eyes. I have lost him. I waited one thousand years to see his beautiful face and I missed my chance. One tear falls down my face as my sound comes back and my vision clears up. When I open my eyes, I see Abby standing in front of me, smiling like she granted my dearest wish. If only she knew she just destroyed my dearest wish from coming true.


	2. Chapter 2

"What have you done?!" I struggle in the chair that still binds me, hoping to free myself and run back to him. One chance. That is all I got and I blew it. I should have spoken, should have told him everything. Even if I wasn't suppose to, I know I would have, because I love him. It has been a thousand years since I have seen his face and all of my feelings are still there. He has to have them as well, he has to be feeling them. He just doesn't know why. And I know that is all my fault.

"What... What do... what the hell do you mean?! I fucking saved your sorry ass." Abby's face fills with anger. I know I should feel bad but I don't. She removed me from Eric. Though she didn't mean to, I know that if she knew he was there, alive, she still would have proceeded. She never did like him.

I struggle in my chair, I need to get free and then it hits me. I look into Abby's eyes, pleading to her anger.

"Put me back. Reverse your spell and send me back." I smile as I realize I'll be able to see him. I'll look into his beautiful eyes, stare at his gorgeous body, feel an ache between my legs that I haven't felt in over a hundred years. I no longer struggle but instead I wait for the spell to empower me again, to overtake my senses.

"No." That small simple word not only destroys my hopes but it crushes my soul. I feel my heart splinter at that two letter word, feel as all of my blood turns to mud in my veins and slowly pushes through my body, splitting each vein that flows throughout me. I feel my lungs lose all the oxygen held within, as my chest convulses in on itself and tries to squeeze me dry, to get the oxygen it so desperately needs.

"No? What the fuck do you mean no?" She crosses her arms and stands her ground. She's about to enter a battle she will inevitably loose.

"I don't know what the fuck is going through your head but I'm not sending you back. You may be a fucking God but you will never get me to send you back." I can feel my anger building, growing to dangerous levels. "If you wanna go back and get your ass kicked, do it yourself." She goes to turn but I stop her. I freeze her muscles, placing her body into a paralyzed state. Though she screams, not a muscle moves. With her mouth constricted to the straight line she has set it in, her scream is nothing but a moan.

I with but a snap of my fingers, I begin freeing my self from Eric's binds. The flames begins at my finger tips, traveling up my arms. The pain does not reach me, just a soft, soothing feeling. It climbs up my arms and the moment it reaches my shoulder, it spreads itself out, stretching its flames to the rest of my body. My head becomes alight, but I still see perfectly clear. I feel my hair become waves of flame, but my strands remain connected to my head, the flames becoming apart of me. My chest becomes covered, my shirt burning away as if it were nothing. I feel the ropes burn away. It's always been an indescribable feeling, having the trap that was wrapped tightly around your torso suddenly becoming nothing but dust, feel the breathe truly enter your body for the first time. The flames moves down to my legs, burning away my jeans slowly. They take the longest to burn away and, lucky for me, when I am freed by my flames, I still have some pant left.

"Do you really fucking think that I couldn't have gotten out of there if I wanted to?" She screams again, but her moans do not penetrate my anger as she had hoped. I stand slowly, wiping off the dust that covered my lap. And that had been my favorite shirt. "Do you think I would have turned to you for your magic if I really needed your help? You can barely control your own abilities, let alone mine." I walk around her, the smoke still lifting off me from my earlier burning. I look into her eyes and see the pleading look I had given her not moments before.

"No." And with that I turn and walk off, leaving Abby alone and paralyzed in her chamber.

Though I am beyond angry, it still hurts me we don't talk like we use to. She was always my best friend, my confidant. But she turned on me just as my daughter had, seeing my love as nothing more than a prison.

* * *

"ABBY!" I hear giggles from around the corner and speed up to meet her. My newest ability sends me flying faster then ever before and I go too far past her on my first shot. I can hear her giggle as I re-appear on the other side of her.

"I have to say, your new ability is my favorite by far." Her smile lights up her face, her happiness spilling over to me. "I mean how cool is that?! You have super speed!" I laugh at her joy for my ability. It had always been an amazing feeling, coming to life with her sitting beside me, trying to guess what I'll get this time. She always helped me control them, as all my new abilities came. She has always been my trainer and I can only hope she always will be. I pray for the ability to save her from a death that will come too soon. As much as I love super speed, it does not protect my Abby from death.

"It is pretty cool." She giggles again and runs off, down the hall, hurtling herself as fast as possible. She has always been a child at heart, my favorite quality of hers. She brings out the child in me, brings me back to my roots. Her giggle fills the entire hall, bouncing off the walls. "ABIGAIL!" She turns at my voice and I run to meet her. I reach her before her head is turned halfway to me, and she was more then 100 meters away. She jumps when she turns and sees me but the moment her eyes look into my face, she smiles.

"Too cool." She looks me up and down, still laughing her head off. I look at her, admiring her youth. Today, I am filling the role of mother for her. Her face lightens up as an idea fills her head. Though I can easily read her mind, and the hundreds of mortals that walk around us and above us, I stay out and give her privacy. She is my other half, and sometimes it's good not to have a clue what your thinking.

"You know what we should do?!" I smile at her tone of not only happiness but excitement. I laugh as I take a quick glimpse into her brain. Sometimes it's good to cheat.

"No. We can't! Abigail!" She smiles and her eyes become big and watery. I know she is pleading with me and I know my answer will inevitably be yes. She knows how to pull on my heart strings.

* * *

I stop as I storm down the corridor. I stand for a few moments, regretting the path our relationship has taken. I have always loved Abby, and I always will, but I cannot keep her here. I may not have seen my daughter in half a millennium, but it pleases me to know she is happier. How could I not do the same for Abby? She is my second daughter, I need to give her the same chances. I release her paralyzing state, swinging open the door with a small wind gust I send flying down the hall. I know she will know. She has always known my hidden meanings. I stop for a moment more and say goodbye to my Abigail. And then I continue on.

I run up the fifty seven flights of stairs in less then fifteen seconds, making it to ground level. The "ground" level I come to looks like any ol' companies entrance. The marble floors and deep mahogany desk feel nothing but cold to me, a perfect resemblance to the true heart of this company; me. I stop for a second and look at the clock. It had been three in the morning when I looked into Eric's eyes and now it sits at four thirty. The darkness outside eases my mind only slightly. I've always loved the night, but knowing that Eric must sleep in just two hours makes me not only nervous but, for some unknown reason, scared. I shake my head and continue on to the corporate elevators.

The gold in the elevator makes me scoff. It's nothing but a cover-up yet they use all of _my_ money to make it look official. I press the fortieth button on the elevator and wait as I slowly rise up the elevators. I may be the strongest being on this planet, but even I follow the rules, such as no running past the ground floor. I may hate the rules, but I still follow them.

The doors open to another deep mahogany desk, but this one has flowers and pictures of little kids on it. I stop by the desk and can hear the receptionist getting coffee in the kitchen down the hall. I look at the desk and notice a picture of a little girl of nothing more than three. I pick up the macaroni-covered frame slowly and look into the little girl's green eyes. She smiles at the camera and has cake covering her face, the frosting covering everything from her clothes to her hair. I can't help but smile at the joy on this small girls face, forever captured in this photo. I have always wished I had photos of Belle when she was younger. I may have an amazing memory, but, as Eric proved, I do not give loved ones justice. A tear falls as I realize Eric will never get to see pictures of his little girl when she was indeed little. Abby always drew her, at least she tried to get a good drawing at every age, but it was always difficult. Definitely not as easy as the humans have it today. One click and forever you receive a moment.

The clearing of a throat sends my body to into a frenzy. All the hairs on my body stand in an instant, becoming hard steel rods that can rip through skin like butter. My adrenaline flows through my body, making my muscles grow in seconds, building my body up for heavy battle. My eyes clear up in moments, sucking the tears back into their ducts and begin searching around for danger. I see a young women with bags below her eyes holding a coffee mug that shakes as if she were in a current earthquake. With a deep breathe, my defenses revert back inside of me and my head clears up. I place the broken frame back on the desk and use my speed to place all the glass back together, making a broken, but held together, picture frame.

"I'm so sorry...about...the, um...photo." she nods and places the mug down, her hands still shaking severely. She clutches the desk for support but the moment by hands reach out to help she shakes her head. Slowly but surely she makes it to her desk and sits, her eyes refusing to look at the frame.

"You-u-u-u c-c-c-an g-g-go in-n-n." I nod and walk past the desk, giving just one look back to see the poor women pick up her picture frame. She flips the frame over a garbage can and places the glass-less frame back on her desk, hidden away behind her computer. I turn ahead, not wanting to watch the poor women a moment longer. My anger returns just as easily as it had gone and I feel the air around me becoming volatile.

As I approach the double glass doors, I see a meeting is going on inside. The office is full of old men in suits sitting around drinking scotch. My so called boss sits behind his new marble desk, drinking away all of his problems, or so he thinks. My anger grows even more as I stare at these smug bastards enjoying my money. I force open the glass doors with a gust of wind and every single man jumps at the sound. The scotch flows all over the leather couches the men had been sitting on and I flow into the room, my anger lifting me off the ground. Most of the men run to the windows, to stay as far from me as possible, even

though distance doesn't matter. The one man, my "boss", Michael, remains, pretending to be strong but his thoughts revolve around to not peeing.

"Did you know?" I stop a few feet from him. I know I need to give him at least one chance to explain himself.

"Did I know what?" he speaks with pure confusion. _Please don't tell me he was there_. And he just lost his chance. I run up to him and grab him by the throat, lifting him into the air. His hands grab at my hand, trying to peel back my fingers but I just squeeze tighter.

"You and your mother-fucking council better start explaining." I squeeze his neck until his face turns another color and then I drop him to the floor, his legs buckling below him and dropping him to his knees before me. He falls to his palms and rubs his neck with one hand. His head slowly tilts up and the moment his eyes look into my face he shoots back onto his butt and scoots back to the windows where the other men stand.

"I said EXPLAIN!" I pick up the glass coffee table and throw it against the marble fountain that stands to my right. It shatters into hundreds of pieces, a few hitting the men nearest the fountain who tried to find safety behind it. One man tries to go to the ones hurt but I throw my hand up, my finger pointing at him while I stare forward at my first victim. "I wouldn't if I were you." The man backs up to the wall and closes his eyes, starting to pray to his god. "Then again, I'm not you." I flick my hand and the man drops to his knees, his blood no longer flowing through his body. He has about thirty seconds of life left and

I look at his "friends" that only stare in horror. "Funny. You were willing to risk your life to save your friend but no one is willing to risk theirs to save you." He begins to convulse on the floor and I can see his color going. I flick my hand again and his blood flow starts up from where it left off.

"Now, I want answers or I'm going to kill one of you mother fuckers for every piece of bullshit that falls from your mouths. Do you understand me?" A few nod but a majority of the group stare in horror. You'd think the council of a Demi-God would be more prepared. I look into each of their eyes, terror becoming their dominant feature. "I also kill for every minute no one says anything thing. You have fifty seconds." The men begin looking at each other, trying to bully with their eyes alone to get someone to sacrifice themselves.

The youngest of the group, a man of about forty, steps forward, the sweat pouring off of him. His hair is beginning to gray but has a layer of brown beneath the shell of gray beginning to cover his head. He has some wrinkles but he's tried to take care of himself, to get the ladies. One look through his mind tells me that no matter what he tells me, this man is going to die.

"Vittoria. We...were aware of...sir Eric's...existence in this world but...we felt it did not...serve the world if you knew. We couldn't have our...beautiful God...worried over some...teenage love..." His voice trails off as he looks to the men behind him. When he faces forward again, his face is full of worry. I shoot forward, stopping inches from him.

"Teenage love?" He gulps as my voice takes on a demonic quality. I feel his thoughts revolving around that phrase and an image of the receptionist comes into his mind. He loves her, so much so he tried to rape her. I don't see the full memory before his heart is in my hand and his body slumps to the floor. The other men reel back as they realize half-truths wont save them either. They all begin to rethink what they will say, but I know none of them hold valuable information for me. I place my hands above the dead body of the disgusting human that lays at my feet. I feel the heat radiating off of my hand, see it as the air begins to wave. And within moments, that grotesque man is nothing but ashes. The nearest window is locked so I slowly lift the latch with my mind and force it open with another gust of wind. The ashes fly out of the room, forever roaming this world.

I look into the eyes of these men, staring down each one. But no matter how long I stare, or how many of them I kill, they will never understand what they did wrong. I point to the convulsing man on the floor whose blood flow has continued. He does not see me, he does not see anything at this moment, the pain shooting throughout is body being so incomprehensible. I slowly lift my finger and the man involuntarily stands. And still, his "friends" do nothing. I walk out of the room, the only decent man following me. And the moment we are past the doors, I slam them shut and lock it, all the while walking towards the receptionist. Those men will all die, but first they must suffer. With one blast of my hand, I knock out the telephone lines on this floor.

I walk up to the desk and look the young women in the face. Though she resists at first, I eventually get her under my spell.

"You are going to take a few days off. Your going to take your children and go to Disney World, all expenses paid by me. In a couple of days, you will return and find that your boss and all of his friends died in his office while you were gone. The door locked and they couldn't get out. You never saw me, you have never seen me. Do you understand?" her head nods, but her face remains blank. I turn towards the elevator and hear as the women grabs her stuff from her desk and rushes past me, excited to go on vacation. The man remains by the desk, still under my spell. I look at him, judging how to handle the situation. I lean

towards his ear, not wanting this naive mother to hear.

"You will remain here for a few days. You will eat what you need from the kitchen. You will make no contact with the outside world. Every time someone comes to see the boss, you tell them he is out of town and send them away. Do you understand?" He, just like the women, nods with no expression and I turn away, joining the receptionist by the elevator.

She presses the button at least ten times before the elevator finally meets us. As we walk inside, she quickly presses the ground level button twelve times, and the doors haven't even closed.

"I'm guessing your excited?" she looks behind her and sees me, not even realizing I had been standing behind her the whole time.

"Oh! I am so sorry! I'm taking my kids on a surprised vacation to Disney World and I just can not wait to see their faces! I have a little girl who absolutely loves Ariel. She is going to be so happy!" The mother turns back to the buttons and presses the ground level a few more times before stepping back and waiting like a normal person. I laugh silently to myself, happy my powers are doing good, something they rarely do.

"Well I hope you and your family have fun." She smiles at me and her mind begins playing with visions of her daughter's face when seeing Ariel, and all the rides her son can go on, now that he is big enough. I get off around the twentieth floor, her happiness being just a little too much for me to handle. I look outside to see the sun is starting to rise. A tear falls as I realize I have to wait at least twelve hours to see my beautiful Eric again.

* * *

"Louisiana? Your sending me to fucking Louisiana? To the middle of nowhere?" I look at my "boss", though he's no more boss to me then he is to this company, the complete fake that it is.

"It's not the middle of nowhere... To some people it's not." he grabs the expensive pen set that sits on his desk and begins taking notes. It's times like these I wish I didn't have to hide beneath this façade of a company.

"Why? There hasn't been a vampire problem there. And even if there was, I don't have to deal with every problem. There are bigger issues out in the world Michael." He continues writing, not paying an ounce of attention to me. My hands come flying down on the desk, sending pieces of it flying all around the room.

"Did you just break my desk?" He doesn't look up, but instead begins to inspect his shattered desk. "It was a fucking antique." He slams his fist against the wood and stands up in frustration.

"You fucking listen to me and listen good. I'm not yours, you do not boss me around. Your lucky I even gave you this power." My voice deepens as I yell at this asshole. He slowly sits back down and puts his fancy pens back in their place.

"I'm sorry. I need you to go to Louisiana to sort out a little business deal. There is a little problem with the vampire government down there and I need you to...sort of scare the king back into place." He smiles, trying to be nice, but he's lost his chance. I turn around and head to the double doors that lead back to the receptionist area.

"Fucking royalty." Though I whisper it, Michael still laughs. I stop when I hear his hidden laugh and he immediately stops, his emotions going to dread. "Fine, I'll do it. But I do it my way." He remains silent as he thinks how bad this could go if I do it my way.

"Fine. Your way." Though he is not happy by this, I know he's pleased I'm sorting out his fucking issue. I look toward the receptionist. I _am _doing Michael a favor.

"I want a new receptionist. The one we have now is a bitch." He grumbles underneath his voice, he's always liked looking at this women, but I hear him make a note and I can tell he'll get someone new. I walk out the door and to the receptionist.

"Leaving so soon?" Though she smiles, her thoughts speak differently. _This fucking bitch only appears to screw up Michael's mood. I wonder if he likes my dress today? Maybe I should walk in and lean over in front_¾I tune out. I've always hated women like that and of course, as time goes on, the number of these women roaming the earth has increased, which just pisses me off even more. I head to the elevator and, with amazing luck, the doors open the moment I reach them. I step in and press the ground floor button, praying I don't make too many stops on the forty floor descend.

When I finally make it to the ground floor, I get out as quickly as possible, not wanting to look all the poor suckers in lobby in the eye. I make it to the security staircase and, after putting in my code, step into the darkness that brings me piece. I get about three seconds of complete darkness until the lights realize a presence is in the room and slowly come to life, their light illuminating the sixty floor descent many dread walking. I jump down the center and make it to the bottom floor in a matter of seconds, slowing down just before impact. A long hallway to my left leads me to my training rooms and weapon rooms and map room, but my true destination is the room to my right; sleeping quarters.

I walk up to my door, leaning my head against the soft wood I have grown to love. This door is my peaceful image when in a stressful situation. The memories this door holds begin coming back to me. I close my eyes and watch as my perfect memory plays back the thoughts of my daughter bursting through this door to show me her first tooth. And my best friend running through when I asked her to be Belle's godmother. This door has been broken thousands of times but nothing can ever keep it from returning to me. This door is the perfect metaphor for me; always killed but never dead.

I push down on the handle and the door swings open for me. I look into my beautiful escape that has always comforted me when my friends have come and gone. I step through the door and relish in my few hours left in my suite, before I have to go on my next mission.

I walk into the bathroom and drop my clothes during my walk. My marble bathroom is the perfect escape. Though it's surface is hard and solid, the hundreds of candles scattered all around lighten the mood. I go to the shower and turn it on, but my purpose is not to clean myself. I look into my bedroom quickly and grab the robe that hangs next to the glass door of the shower, wrapping it around myself. I head to the linen shelves that sit next to my double sink, across from my glass shower. Pulling on a small perfume bottle, the paneling next to the shelves slides open, revealing a hidden room.

After a quick look into the mirror, with minor fixes of my hair, I walk through the slot. The room is completely dark, with no light source but the candles that do not burn. With one snap, my hand becomes covered in flame and I throw out just enough fire to light all the candles, giving light to my hidden room. It's small, with just one glass bookcase, but it's all I need. I never come in here, only on horrible days and even though today isn't horrible, I need to feel again. I walk up to the glass and put my hand to it. Behind the glass sits my only true antiques I carried into this millennium.

The cloth looks just as it did the first time I laid eyes on it but I dare not touch it for the years have not been kind. The blood still lays on it, another layer to the cloth that has just as much sentimental value. I look at the shirt and allow the memories to flow back to me, just as pungent as the door but even more sentimental. Laying below the hanging shirt, propped up on a glass shelf, sits a note in Swedish, a note written by a Viking giving me his address. I sit in front of the book case and press a small black button that sits on the floor, allowing the bookcase to fill with light, illuminating the shirt perfectly.

I miss him so much. I haven't been in this room in so long that dust now covers everything. I curl my legs up to my chest and rock back and forth slightly to help comfort me. I wish I could tell him I love him, that I always have just one more time. If I could look into those beautiful eyes one more time, I would feel so much relief, so much calm. These thousand years have been so stressful. I need my safe haven again.

"I love you. I know I never got to tell you that but I do." I place my forehead on my knees and let my tears fall. He won't mind seeing me cry. "Isabelle's good. She looks like you. Well her eyes at least. I still haven't told her the truth about you and I don't know if I ever will." I can't help but feel like a coward. A coward for lying to my daughter. A coward for pushing away Abby. I haven't been the same person I once was and I know I can't remain the person I am. "I'm so sorry Eric. I should have saved you. It's all my fault your dead. I'm so sorry." I stand slowly as I finish my prayer to Eric and give the glass one kiss before walking out of the room. Before I close the doorway I wave my hand and blow out the candles, the light that illuminates the cloth dying with the flames. As the door closes I realize this has to be my final visit to this room. I can't come back here. Not again.

* * *

I don't know how long I stood on that floor staring out the window at the rising sun. It had to of been at least an hour. I didn't even realize where I was until I heard the elevator ring and saw some men step off the elevator, heading into work. I gave a weak smile and ran to the staircase, not giving a fucking damn for the rules. I jumped the hallway and ran so fast at the door that I not only took the door off it's hinges but took the frame out of the wall. But I didn't stop. I ran across the giant, stone-cold lobby and headed for the employee staircase, not even waiting for my few seconds of darkness before jumping down that staircase as well. No matter how fast I was going, nor how fast I could have been going, I still would have noticed Abby's open, empty room.

The moment my feet touched the stone floor, I knew I had to go back. Using the force from the landing, I propelled myself back up to her floor. I walked towards her empty room and, though the door was open, though the room was clearly empty, I knocked. How could I not?

* * *

"Knock knock." Abby's smiling face turns around as she sits cross-legged on the floor, pictures surrounding her. I haven't seen her smile like this in ages. And then I notice the drawings of Isabelle as a baby and I know why. Abby's reverse back in time. She's done this a few times where she becomes a younger version of herself, but I've never seen her become Isabelle-Abby. "Whatchya doing?" she smiles again and looks back at the drawings.

"She was the cutest baby. Wasn't she?" I walk into her room and sit down next to her, putting my arm around her shoulders.

"Yea. She was." she looks to me again smiles, tears in her eyes. "I've missed you. You weren't the same when she came. You never looked her in the face. You weren't the mother you should have been." A tear falls down my cheek as I stare at the drawings of my baby girl.

"I know." I can hear the hysteria in my voice and stand quickly. I don't want this Abby to see me cry. No. I don't want present Abby to see me cry. "Um sweetie? I'm leaving for a few days. Michael will fill you in. Can you leave a note for...present day Abby?" She looks up into my face and nods, another smile and another tear filling her face. I nod and run from the room. Maybe one more visit couldn't hurt.

* * *

The room looks...soulless. I stare at the walls, looking at the hundreds of holes that represent each of Abby's phases, all the posters she put up and took down as the times changed. A tear falls and I look down to the floor, not wanting to look at the emptiness of the room.

At first I don't see them, too concerned with not crying. But when a bit of wind flies past me and I hear the paper move, my eyes find the source. I bend down and pick up the remnants of Abby's room. The tears fall with no control and I clutch the papers to my chest, running from the room and back down to my floor, to my suite, to my bathroom, to my hidden time capsule. The doors open too slow for me and I bump into the shelving unit, smashing it to pieces. I run to the glass bookcase and pull open the doors I haven't opened in over a hundred years. Placing the papers carefully but quickly, I seal the door shut again and sit on the floor, staring at my relics.

I spend hours there, sitting on that floor, looking upon the objects I hold dear. I can feel my emotions getting out of control and my powers going with them. Every second a new ability comes to show, sending my body into overdrive of adrenaline. After an hour or so, I finally pass out of exhaustion, my mind nothing but a blank state as I sleep.

When I do finally wake, my muscles feel tight and my eyes feel heavy, as if I had a night of drinking and am now hung-over. I stand slowly, not wanting to throw up in my time capsule and head for the doorway. Before I close the partially broken door, I look back one more time and the last thing I see within my beautiful glass bookcase are Eric's eyes. Nay, Isabelle's eyes.

* * *

"So you want me to scare him? That's all?" The phone in my hand is not only of crappy materials but has the worst earpiece in the world. I have tried this conversation eight times with Michael and every time I get cut off.

"Yes and no." I pull the phone away, my anger beginning to grow again. The bar I stand in is the epitome of small town bars.

"What else is there?" The anger is clear in my voice and, even with this horrible phone, I still hear Michael's gulp. When he doesn't answer for a few moments, I worry I have lost him again but then I hear his sigh.

"Well, as it turns out, we need this king to help us with a little matter so before you scare him you need him to sign a deal. We have already sent you the contracts. Just get him to sign and then give him a good scare." I roll my eyes and look up to the ceiling fan, thinking of all the creative ways I could kill Michael using just that.

"Isn't that what lawyers are for?" He gives a quick chuckle but then pretends to be coughing before he answers.

"Vampires don't like lawyers. Just get the job done, okay?" Before I can give my creative answer, he hangs up the phone and I sigh in frustration. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I maneuver back to my booth, hoping this job is quick and easy.

I look down at my horrible outfit and relish in the fact that I don't have to wear this stupid get-up for more then a couple days. My waitress comes over, fumbling with her pen, clicking it ten times a second, trying to get it to work.

"I am just not having a good night!" With a quick sigh, she shoves the pen back into her apron pocket and holds up her pointer finger to me. Spinning around, she spots a fellow waitress a few tables down and whispers in her ear. Though I can hear it perfectly, I tune out. A silent argument occurs between them and eventually the fellow waitress walks over to my table, placing the fakest smile I have ever witnessed in my life on her face.

"Howdy!" Her cheery voice just angers me even more. It's as if she thinks I'm idiotic enough to believe she's happy to be serving me so I'll tip her good. I look up into her face and place my fakest smile on as well. "My names Sookie. I'll be your waitress tonight."

Sookie? They have names like that down here? Immediately I know, I'm going to hate Louisiana.


End file.
